“For myself, I always write about Dublin, because if I can get to the heart of Dublin I can get to the heart of all the cities of the world. In the particular is contained the universal.”

“When I die, Dublin will be written on my heart.”

“My city. I pondered that phrase, wondered why Barrons felt that way. He never said “our world.” He always said “your world.” But he called Dublin his city. Merely because he’d been in it so long? Or had Barrons, like me, been beguiled by her tawdry grace, fallen for her charm and colorful dualities? I looked around “my” bookstore. That was what I called it. Did we call the things of our heart our own, whether they were or not?”

“He doesn’t get that I’m not interested in a superhero boyfriend. I’m going to be the superhero that can kick his ass from one end of Dublin to the other.”

“Dublin City was quiet when they reached the Waxwork Museum, as if it was holding its breath.”

“The heart thatbreaks open can contain the whole universe.”